Ceremony

I married a hidalgo
in a green towered church

at the port. The priest
measured our vows

in a smoky vial,
touched lips unclamped

with his forefinger
to quiet vibrations

uttered as chords.

Did we think blue
pigeon-toed on cold stone?

Then etched our name
into vellum

forearms straining
with the slow curve.

Outside, in the flowering
dusk, lost our way

dancing with salty arms
as the dark stained our tongues.